


Vestigum

by MilayaMilenZeal



Series: Long Live the Queen [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Crossdressing, Gen, Home Alone, Insecurity, Post-Game, Reverse strip poker, secret keeping, teenage girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilayaMilenZeal/pseuds/MilayaMilenZeal
Summary: M.E. 783Regina’s always worn a glove to cover her right hand, ever since she was three years old. When her friends ask about why she refuses to take it off, she’s not sure how to respond. How is she supposed to explain when she doesn’t understand it herself?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little surprised no one was curious about the "lines" Prompto was talking about last part... oh well.

As fun as it is to be running around and just run around and do stuff, sometimes Regina just wants to stay at home and relax without having to think about the future, or how she’s becoming more and more like an actual woman. Of course that was a given, but she hates the fact that Iris has to _keep_ rubbing it in her face every time she comes over.

It’s really getting on her nerves…

And that’s why, when her Dad says he’s got a hunt coming up at Wiz’s Chocobo Post in the morning, she asks the following;

“Hey, Dad? I was wondering… can I stay home this time?”

Of course, he looks at her funny, clearly not sure if he’s heard her right, but when she keeps looking at him seriously, he finally responds. “Well… I guess that’s no problem. But may I ask why? You’re usually okay with at least coming along to the area… especially when we’re going to the Chocobo Post.”

“I know, but… I dunno, I just… don’t feel like it. Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh no! No, not at all… I’m just… well, surprised. Guess I just hadn’t thought there’d come a day you _wouldn’t_ want to come along.”

She laughs, because she understands the feeling. “I know… me neither.”

Her Dad chuckles softly, before he turns serious. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Well that’s another thing… I was hoping I could… yanno… ask the others to come over, maybe?”

Her Dad laughs at the hesitancy of her question, before he smiles at her. “Of course you can. As long as you promise to keep the house standing when I get back.”

“Daaaad! I’m not a kid, alright?” the sixteen-year-old mock-whined with a smile of her own.

And that’s how things started up…

 

The following morning, she still ends waking up at 6 in the morning ( _goddammit!!_ ) because Gladio hadn’t heard that Regina was staying home this time. Oh well; she’s up now, so she may as well get herself ready for when her friends showed up.

Domi gets there first, when her Dad’s still there, which isn’t so strange; Domi always likes to be early rather than late. She hugs him when he shows up, her usual greeting for her friend, which he returns happily, before they go to see her Dad and Gladio off. Her Dad gives her some last minute questions to make sure she’ll be fine, and she knows many would find this to be annoying, but Regina appreciates the concern and she nods that she’s got all she’s going to need.

Once the two men have left, Libby arrives a few minutes after, carrying a new book ( _duh!_ ) with her. It doesn’t take much longer for Terry to join them, and the group makes themselves comfy around the living room.

Much of the day is spent just playing video games and talking, and that’s perfectly fine. Libby’s dug up a few new facts about Tenebrae as well, and that’s always interesting to hear about, too, and Regina can tell Terry and Domi are equally curious about it.

Come lunch time, Libby makes them a lunch that’s on par with Iggy’s (not that she’ll tell Ignis that… he might take it as a challenge…), and they all sit around the living room, lounging as they eat and talk about everything and nothing.

Regina actually ends up stretching her arms over her head at one point and Terry spots the scar along her stomach as her shirt rises up because of it. And, of course, she just _has_ to ask about it. Not that it’s really a big deal, but it’s still a bit of a touchy subject. She does, however, tell them of the incident that actually gave her the scar, even if she, herself, doesn’t remember all of what happened. She was five when it happened (was it really over a decade already? Wow… she feels _really_ old now…) so the memory _is_ a bit fuzzy around the edges.

Though, oddly enough, she can still remember very well that it was storming… and very heavily at that, because she can still hear the crack of thunder sometimes in her dreams. Awkward…

And somehow, that conversation derails into everyone telling each other about other injuries that they’d suffered at one point. Libby admits to having broken her arm once when she’d fallen off a ladder in the library (which wasn’t a real surprise), while Terry merely holds up her leg, stating “Nuff said.” Domi’s never really had any real “injuries”, he admits, though he _did_ once step on a chisel because they were fixing up his room and they’d left some tools by his bedside overnight at one point. The wound hadn’t been deep, thankfully, as he’d jumped back to avoid that as soon as the pain hit him, but it had been deep enough to require a bit of stitching.

It’s a bit weird for girls to talk about injuries like that, Regina knows, but she doesn’t care. She likes that her friends aren’t like “the norm” and that she can talk with them about anything…

…well, mostly.

Her right hand itches as if in response to the thought, but she ignores it, lest she draws attention to it. That’s the one thing she’s not prepared to deal with just yet.

Regina eventually offers to fetch her friends some drinks and no one says no to that, giving her an excuse to move to the kitchen and, for a moment, be alone with her thoughts. She rubs her wrist for a moment, fingers moving along the leather of her glove. Normally she’d not wear it around the house all day… but her friends are here, so she has to make an exception this time. She probably shouldn’t, as her Dad’s already pointed out, and while she _does_ trust her friends, she just doesn’t know how to say what she wants to say.

Let alone, what _can_ she say?

She comes back with the all three drinks, held precariously between her hands, and she makes sure to watch where she’s going lest she drop them. No such thing happens, thankfully, and once she’s made a quick trip to get her own, they begin debate on what to do next. Her Dad will likely not be back until nightfall, if at all; it really depends on how the hunt goes, so they have time.

Eventually they come up with a new variant of “strip poker” and dub it “dress poker”; in which the loser has to wear one of the dresses in Regina’s closet.

Regina’s obviously not a fan, but Terry and Domi love Libby’s idea, meaning it’s three to one and she’s vastly outnumbered. Meaning she has no choice but to join them.

Domi’s the first loser, and while he initially whines about losing, his grievances quickly fade when Regina shows him _exactly_ how many dresses she’s actually gotten from Iris over the years. Not all of them will fit now, but there are plenty that will, and Domi actually spends a good few minutes looking them all over (twice), before deciding on a pale bluish-green dress with a V-neck and long sleeves, while the skirt just barely touches his knees. And, unsurprisingly, he makes it look _good_ on him, and Regina can _see_ Libby’s eyebrow twitching.

Libby loses second, and she takes the “punishment” in stride, even though they all know Libby’s extremely excited about the concept of wearing a dress. Having grown up in Lestallum, where the women are expected to carry the entire workload, she’s not had many opportunities to wear one. She eventually settles on a strapless dark gray and white dress. She looks good in it… only Domi insists on ‘fixing’ her hair, since the bun apparently doesn’t fit the dress.

Domi loses again after, and he almost whines about having to switch dresses already, but he does so anyway. He picks a wine-red dress that hugs his figure perfectly, and Terry actually has the audacity to let out a wolf-whistle, much to Regina and Libby’s amusement and Domi’s embarrassment (a little… he’s actually just as amused, he says).

And then he loses again and has to change yet again, this time into a light blue party dress.

It’s Libby’s loss next time, and she pulls out a dark blue skirt and shirt combo (which they decide is also allowed after Domi’s third loss).

After that, Terry _finally_ loses a round… and she _has_ to wear a shirt and skirt, because she can’t fit into any of the dresses because of her build. It looks good enough, but it’s definitely not for her.

…and then Regina loses.

“Ah _crap_ ,” she groans out as she drags her hand over her face, while the others are laughing in their own respective ways.

“Looks like it’s your turn, finally, Regi,” Libby says as she adjusts her glasses.

“I _know_ …” Regina groans in aggravation. She’s got half a mind to refuse to do it… but heck, even _Terry’s_ agreed to the terms, and she’s admitted to not liking dresses and skirts either because they’re so annoying to run in. Might as well own up to it…

However, as she’s standing in front of the closet, she’s inwardly groaning at the selection, while ignoring Terry’s call for her to hurry up. She’s got _nothing_ in there that even remotely to her tastes. Then again, dresses in general weren’t for her…

“Try this one, Regi,” Domi suddenly says as he comes over, and he pulls out one of the darker skirts in her closet, along with its matching shirt. “You can just imagine these are… well, short shorts,” Domi offers with a slightly lame shrug.

The attempt’s appreciated, but it doesn’t make it any more acceptable for her to wear the damn thing…

Regina eventually resigns herself to her fate, though, taking the items and moving into the bathroom. She strips out of her casual clothes, setting them aside so she can get back into them later, before she stands and glares at the skirt, as if she could set it aflame without anyone knowing somehow. In the end she sighs and tugs the shirt on first, before she steps into the skirt and tugs it up over her hips.

Good _lord!_ That’s WAY too much air up her legs!

She struggles not to growl in frustration, bites her lip and takes a heavy breath, before she moves out of the bathroom. When she does, everyone is looking at her, and she can tell Terry’s struggling not to laugh.

“Not. A. Word,” she hisses softly, more than a little annoyed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Terry is able to get out amidst her barely suppressed chuckles.

Domi allows a small smile, and he’s obviously trying to say something nice, without bringing on Regina’s ire. Not an easy thing to do with her current state.

She really just should’ve said ‘no’ to the whole thing…

Libby is smiling cheekily, but then the expression falls and she frowns in concentration. And Regina doesn’t like the look…

“On a completely unrelated note, Regina,” she says, and Regina knows it’s bad because she’s using her full name, “is there a reason you’re still wearing that glove of yours?”

…oh… _crap!_

In her haste to just get this over with, she’d completely forgotten about doing something about her glove! And _of course_ Libby would notice… she was like Iggy; she noticed _everything!_

“Just didn’t feel like taking it off,” she says, playing it off as it being a casual slip-up that just, you know, happens.

“Even when you go to sleep?”

 _Oooooof COURSE_ Libby noticed her sleeping with the damn glove on! The Six be damned! Why’d her friend have to so observant?!

“Does it matter?” she asks rather than answer the question, because honestly, she doesn’t have an answer for it…

“Perhaps not, but it does raise a few questions about what you could be hiding under it,” Libby points out. “Did you get injured, perhaps?”

That would be an easy way out… and yet she chooses not to take it. “Seriously? No.”

“Then why else do you choose to keep it on?”

“Ah um…” Domi interrupts them. “Can… can we just… keep playing? I mean, if she’s not hurt, isn’t that fine?”

“In normal circumstances, I would agree… if she didn’t appear to be actively hiding something with it.”

She’s not sure if Libby is worried, suspicious, or both, but she’s going to place her bets on both.

Terry then joins in the ‘argument’, but Regina isn’t sure whose side she’s on, and her friends start to go back and forth over and over again arguing about the importance and/or significance of her glove and whatever she’s hiding under it. And Regina doesn’t know how to say anything in response to any of the comments.

She’s holding her hand behind her back now, as if this will make it go away somehow. It’s itching like crazy, as if it’s demanding to be uncovered and shown off, but she squeezes her hand firmly to suppress the urge, because she’s just not sure how it’ll be taken.

“…but you can’t just force her to do something she’s not comfortable with!” She catches the tail-end of Domi’s argument.

Libby is frowning now as she counters with: “Something she is not comfortable with… or a matter she does not trust us with?” and the words make Regina’s whole body lock up in alarm.

“Hey now, Lib; that’s taking it a bit too far, don’t you think?” Terry points out, but Regina doesn’t hear anything else.

_Trust…_

Her Dad’s words from months before come back to her, where he asks her kindly if she trusts her friends, and then tells her that if she trusts them, that she needs to have faith in that trust that she’s built up with her friends. If she trusts them, she must have faith that she won’t be judged… based on a few lines on her skin.

The itch was gone, almost as if her thoughts were influencing it, and maybe they were, but she can’t be too sure. Still, though…

“…Okay, _fine_ ,” she says then in mock defeat, startling her friends into stopping their argument almost immediately. She doesn’t give them the chance to question her words as she lifts her hand and starts to finger with the clasp that has always kept the glove secured around her wrist, preventing it from slipping off by accident. It feels like it’s been forever since she’s had so much trouble with it, though, and it seems to take much longer than it should’ve.

But finally, the clasp clicks loose and Regina’s breath hitches for a moment.

“R-Regi…! Y-you don’t have to if you don’t—”

“It’s okay, Domi,” she reassures him, as she pushes her thumb under the material and starts to push it up and along her hand. “It’s not like it’s something bad…”

And then, finally, the glove comes off and Regina clenches and unclenches for a moment, unused to the lack of leather against her skin after so long. She doesn’t even remember the last time she actually removed the glove for anything; she tends to wear it all the time now, even during the shower and baths.

Once her hand’s gotten over the fact that it’s no longer covered up, she holds it out palm down, allowing her friends to see the thing she’s been hiding for so long. The reactions are mixed, and she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Libby’s reaction is one of confusion and curiosity, and Terry’s is a cocked eyebrow and a whistle of awe. The only one she can’t read is Domi, who is looking at her hand with an almost empty expression… and that worries her…

…but then…

“…oh… em… _GEE!_ ” Domi exclaims suddenly, running around Regina and then grabbing her hand to turn her hand his way. “That’s so _pretty!_ ” he gushes as his thumbs move along the dark lines, tracing the outline with the tip of his long nails. “Does it mean anything or is it just abstract in general?”

“Uh… I’m not sure…” Regina admits as Domi’s fingers continue to trace the sharp black lines in the center and the half-shut eye-like emblem in its very center, before moving it along the small curled up creature that’s drawn under it, and then to the staff with this Spiracorn-like head on top arching diagonally ‘behind’ the center section, with small crystalline-looking snow-flakes dotting the sides. It’s a very intricate mark, and Regina’s almost sure it means _something_ … but she doesn’t know what it could be; it’s been there on her hand for as long as she can remember, and she’s never really questioned where it came from in the first place or if, perhaps, it had been something left to her from her real parents. “I don’t think there’s any real meaning behind it…”

“Awww…” Domi almost whines as he smooths the pads of his fingers along the mark with a small smile playing on his painted lips. “That’s a pity… it looks like something that holds some sort of story… like it’s the cover of a story book.”

“Ah… well, I suppose so…” Regina murmurs, glancing down at the mark. She’d never considered it like that before, but now that Domi’s pointed it out, she can see it (a little…).

“…though… it does look a bit empty here, doesn’t it?” Domi points out then, tapping at the area opposite of the staff. And he’s right, of course, because Domi’s got that eye for detail and can tell if a drawing is unfinished or completed; it does seem rather empty… like there’s something missing there that should’ve been there from the start.

“I guess…” Regina murmurs, but her finger’s itching to curl up against her palm. She can’t tell them… she _can’t_ … showing them is one thing… but telling _that_ … no, she can’t do that…

“Interesting…” Libby says finally. “So you say you’ve always had this? Does that mean your father gave it to you at an early age?”

“Ah no, he… oh wait…” Right; they don’t know; she never told them. “Dad… isn’t actually my father.”

“He’s not??” All three of them say this at the same time, and they all look equally stunned.

“No, he’s not. I’m adopted.”

“Oh shoot…” Terry murmurs softly. “Regi… that’s—”

“Don’t bother, Terry,” Regina says as she waves the matter off. “It’s no big deal; I ended up fine the way I did. And who cares if Dad and I don’t have a blood relation? Even if he’s not my actual father, he’s still my Dad. And that’s not gonna change anytime soon.”

Libby hums as she adjusts her glasses, nodding approvingly. “Wise words. Although it does worry me about whom gave you this tattoo… and what kind of parent would see this done to their own child…”

“Frankly? I don’t even want to know,” Regina admits. “…Anyway… who’s up for another game?”

Terry blinks before she lets out a guffaw of laughter and then she grins as she says she’s game as long as the dresses/skirts keep coming, and so (after a bit more scolding from Libby), they go back to their table to play.

As they continue to play, though, Regina is relieved that her friends are completely ignoring the mark on her hand. However, even though they haven’t responded badly to the mark, she knows she’ll continue to wear the glove regardless of their acceptance.

After all, no one had to know that the mark had been gradually expanding with time… or that the eye in the center had once been a mere line…

No one had to know…

Not even her Dad…

She would take this secret with her to her grave…

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure some people may've already figured out what the mark is... Anyone want to speculate about how she got it?


End file.
